regarding those who wander the land of dawn
by ajxqueen
Summary: a compendium of character exploratory arcs, which will feature the woes of different inhabitants of the Land of Dawn, as so as offer fresh perspectives on their plights.
1. i

**Disclaimer:** _Mobile Legends: Bang Bang_ and its characters, unfortunately, do not belong to me. If they did, we would have seen more Argus/Rafaela, Estes/Miya. They belong to _Moonton,_ and let us all support this incredible game by playing it!

* * *

 _once, there was an angel_

For the life of him, he couldn't even remember exactly who that angel was. He would get glimpses of her, and whenever he was close to finally remembering, finally determining who she was and why she appeared in his visions, she always vanished. Like a snowflake melting too quickly in his palm, he tried to grasp at the vestiges of her, yet she slipped easily out of his fingers.

There were a few details, however, that he kept as close as he could: she had long, golden hair, liquid sunlight, and her smile was gentle, soothing.

Whenever the voices in his head got louder than tolerable, the Nightstalker closed his eyes, and summoned these minute details. A mantra he repeated softly to himself, _angel, angel_ , until the malevolent voices were drowned out by visions of her hair and her smile.

He did this way too often, reaching the point that he was not any more certain if she was a mere figment of his imagination, or if she was really, actually, real.

But, in retrospect, the Nightstalker remembered little.

There was a huge, gaping maw in his memories, a void he was frustrated to fill. The voices told him that his former life mattered little, that he belonged to the sword now, and that he lived now to satisfy his bloodlust, nothing more.

All he could remember, aside from the glimpses of the angel, was waking up in a cavern. His sword lying beside him, a deep green mist oozing out of it; the voices beckoning him to pick it up, to fulfill his destiny. When he did, its power filled him to the core, a surge of malicious energy that made him think that, with the sword in his hands, he would conquer the world.

 _And conquer the world, I will._

Mindless wandering after finding his sword ensued, leaving bloody carnage and murder in his wake. Eventually, the Nightstalker stepped foot into the Land of Dawn. The voices rejoiced, crooned into his ear that this land was just lying in wait, full of kingdoms to lay siege onto, reigned over by royalty he must kill.

These were his first steps, they sang. After the Land of Dawn, he would venture out, find a way to reach the other planes if he could. It filled the Nightstalker with purpose. The angel was forgotten in that moment of imagined glory, and, briefly, the Nightstalker thought her smile turned into a frown in his imagination.

He headed to the kingdom of the Moon Elves first. They were a folk recovering from the invasion of the Queen of the Apocalypse herself, slowly but surely, and the voices deemed that there was no better moment to attack them than now. Even their newly-awakened king would not stand a chance against the poison of the Nightstalker's sword.

Of course, the Nightstalker had no other choice but to obey.

However, there was something stopping him from finding the exact location of the kingdom. He could swear that the copse of trees he had entered didn't look widely-encompassing when he ventured in it, but it has already been five days since he'd entered, and all the Nightstalker could see were seemingly endless rows of trees. At night, the leaves rustled, the sounds they made akin to hushed voices whispering amongst themselves.

Even with his angel in mind, he wasn't able to find much comfort. The only fortune he had on him was the fact that he didn't require to eat from time to time. The few berries which didn't kill him were sufficient, so was the seldom fruit from a low-lying branch.

Now, the Nightstalker wasn't someone who gave up on his quest easily. Or, maybe he was, in his former life, but he didn't remember that anymore, and as far as he knew, he was unstoppable now. Whatever he desired, set his mind to, he accomplished eventually. So why was finding a crippled elven kingdom proving to be a difficult task?

His eyes snapped open at the sound of twigs breaking. Clutching his sword tight—and hearing the voices from within it soar with mad glee—the Nightstalker slowly whirled towards the source of the sound.

He hoped darkly that it was an elf, so he could beat the lights out of it, then force it to tell him the location of their kingdom.

A dark, bushy tail peeked out of the shrubs.

The Nightstalker swung his sword towards it. Green mist oozed out of the blade, the voices within it cried out for blood to be spilled, hollow whispers resonating in a darkening wood.

"Don't hurt her!" There was a sudden blinding flash of light, and the Nightstalker found himself slumped on the forest floor, hands pressed to his eyes—to the spaces in his mask which let him see. His sword clattered uselessly to his side.

There was rustling of leaves and a soft, feminine squeak. "You didn't have to do that, Rafaela!" came a high-pitched tone.

"Of course I did," admonished another distinctly female voice. "He was about to slash you open with his sword, Nana."

"But he didn't!" the high-pitched voice addressed as Nana harrumphed in reply. "I'm going to go back to Miya, tell her about this."

Footsteps sounded, and his sword clang as something hit it.

The Nightstalker hissed. His head pounded from the strain of the light—which has faded as quickly as it came, yet the effects did not was away as instantly—but he managed to reach out with a single hand. He grasped for his sword.

Someone put it onto his searching fingers, gently laying the hilt on his palm. Still grimacing as he was waiting for the pain to fade, he opened a single eye to see who had done it.

Crouched in front of him was a beautiful woman with flowing golden hair, an even more gilded halo resting daintily atop her head, and wide brown eyes. The Nightstalker almost gasped in surprise.

The golden-haired woman stared at him silently. It felt as if the whole forest ceased to make sound, as if they wanted to give her the silence she required in assessing him. The only sound he could hear was faint, faint pounding. Was it whatever was left of his heart, thundering away, or hers?

She slightly tilted her head to the side, and realization seemed to dawn in her eyes. The Nightstalker thought he saw tears brimming in them, but maybe it was just his eye playing tricks on him, a vestige of the sudden blinding light earlier.

Slowly, she reached out. Every muscle in his body tensed, yet he didn't retaliate. He didn't see this beautiful woman in front of him as an enemy, even if the malevolent voices of his sword crooned, urged him to strike, slash her face and make it bleed. Her face softened when she took hold of the hand on his face, and gently removed it.

The tears weren't a figment of his imagination, after all. They were like tiny crystals, he thought distractedly, as they streaked down both of her cheeks. She still looked unearthly lovely. Something stirred in the far recesses of his mind, the very place where he closely kept the glimpses of his angel.

"I never thought I would see you again, Argus."

As if struck by electricity, he flinched away from her. Her hand dropped listlessly, hurt openly making itself clear on her expression. The sword's voices rose, ringing in his ears in a mad crescendo.

"That's not my name," he hissed at her. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, properly. Poised to strike at any moment, but she remained crouched in front of him, uncaring if he tried to attack her.

More tears leaked out of her dark, warm eyes. "I'm sorry for leaving you in that cave. I was terrified."

 _Why are you not killing her yet?_

"What cave?" he snarled. The voices snarled back at him, urging him to pierce the woman straight in her mellow little heart, watch as her golden hair turn crimson red with her own blood. "I don't know you." He was buying time, he realized faintly, but for what purpose?

She gave out a tiny, weak laugh. It seemed to sap more energy out of her than necessary, as she'd ended up slumping in from of him, the very image of frailty. "Of course you do not remember. Your sword has probably leeched out all the goodness in you, and replaced it with mindless violence."

 _Kill her! Now!_

The Nightstalker leapt to his feet, sword held tightly. He saw her tense up for a split-second, then do the same. Except that when she lifted her feet off her ground, bright and golden wings sprouted from her back. They shimmered, half-corporeal and half-liquid light, tethering her to the air as she glowered down at him. It was akin to facing the wrath of a goddess.

"I cannot honestly believe that you will ever raise your sword at me, Argus," she said bitterly. Her face, now devoid of tears, has hardened. "I foolishly hoped that there was still traces of the old you within that ghastly form, but, no. You are as vile as your appearance now.

"You are no longer the Light of Dawn." With these words, memories sparked to life. The void in his mind was filled with light, with vivid scenes of an angel in stark white, wielding a sword over the wizened forces of darkness. A golden-haired angel flew beside him, casting blinding white light on the enemies, and healing the little wounds they have successfully managed to inflict upon him.

The Nightstalker staggered, taking a shaky step backwards. His back hit a tree. More memories came to the surface, snatched from the murky depths of his own mind. The angel in white, and the golden-haired angel, speeding downwards from the heavens, eyes trained on the suffering world beneath them.

"What are these memories?"

But she did not answer. Instead, she casted him a pitying glance, and then the white, blinding light was back.

When it faded, the Nightstalker found himself alone in the woods once more. Darkness crawled slowly around him, the faint light coming from the moonrise drifting through the spaces between the canopy's leaves. His sword, for the first time since he'd ever wielded it, was silent.

Once, there was an angel, and his name was Argus.


	2. ii

**Disclaimer** _: Mobile Legends: Bang Bang_ and its characters, unfortunately, do not belong to me. If they did, we would have seen more Argus/Rafaela, Estes/Miya. They belong to _Moonton_ , and let us all support this incredible game by playing it!

* * *

 _a king has many regrets_

Peace was nothing but a fleeting moment of tranquility, but the Moon Elf King vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep it that way. He owed his denizens that much, as he blamed himself greatly for the disaster which has befallen the elves of the Emerald Woodland.

If he was not as weak as he was during the second plane war, then he would not have required to go into deep slumber. If he was only awake when the Queen of the Apocalypse had dared venture into his kingdom, then he would have been able to stop her. If he was only around, then the poor, young, weak-hearted elves would not have succumbed to her charms.

It was only because of a certain brave soul, why his kingdom was saved. The Moonlight Archer, young Miya, with starlight woven into her long hair and the ire of a thousand suns in her arrows, had taken the initiative and led the last stand against the oppressing forces. By the grace of the Moon Goddess herself, they won.

And that was just when Estes himself woke up. Late to the war, full of self-blame on why he kept on disappointing his people, but they rejoiced when they saw him. A monarch brought hope to havoc-wreaked people, he realized grimly.

The Temple of the Moon was in shambles when he walked into it, but somehow, his presence served as a bright beacon, heralding a new beginning. As if now that he had woken up, he would be able to magically restore peace and order to the whole Moonlake, and shield the moon elves from further harm.

This was not easily the case. But he never voiced that out loud. The current bout of peace they were experiencing was something akin to a mere false comfort, as easily blown away as dandelion seeds, but he would never tell his people this. Not when they gazed upon at him with wide, searching eyes, filling with newfound hope and strength.

Estes knew that he would most likely end up as badly injured in the second plane war if he sought out the root of this violence by himself.

That was why he was eyeing an alliance with the famed Moonlight Archer.

"Your Majesty." She had apparently slipped into his presence without him noticing. A manifestation of the greatest power the Moon has bestowed on her—swiftness like liquid moonlight—and he flushed at the embarrassment of not even paying attention.

The Code of Moonlight lay on his lap, opened to a page filled with the ancient language of elves and numerous intricate runes. Estes was sheepishly relieved that he had the excuse of being too focused in perusing the Code, which was why he had not noticed her come into the makeshift throne room, and not because he was wondering if she would accept an offer which will practically put her life at stake. Again.

He winced at the thought. Miya noticed this, and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Your Majesty," she repeated, this time sounding a little cautious, "What's troubling you?"

Shaking his head, he gently closed the Code of Moonlight. Sparks of blue runes swirled up from the contact of pages, then puffed out in a display of brilliant blue smoke. Estes sighed. "Lots of matters trouble me, Moonlight Archer."

Deep within him, he hated how he sounded like an old man when he addressed her. He _was_ older, that was certain, but it was a little offending for him to remember it every time he spoke to her in that semi-condescending manner. Miya, faultless she was in his eyes, did not even seem fazed by it.

"I understand, Your Majesty. Running a kingdom on the verge of tearing apart is taxing, I know." She offered him a curt nod. "You're actually doing an amazing job at still being calm and put-together in the middle of this mess."

Was she complimenting him?

Heat rose to his face, and he hid this with a cough. Ducking his head down, the king shrugged stiffly. "It is the way I am. And I do not think acquiring a state of mind as disquiet as the situation at hand would be beneficial to my intents."

"Which basically is bringing back peace to the Woodland," Miya supplied, allowing a tiny smile to grace her lips. "And that's difficult work, Your Majesty. We're all really relieved to have you back here."

The Moon Elf King was still a little breathless at the sight of her small smile—curse himself for feeling this way, at an unfortunate time, for someone not within his reach—but he managed a quick nod.

Before he second-guessed himself, he blurted out: "Walk with me in the lakeside, will you, Moonlight Archer? I have a proposition to make." He glanced around uneasily, simultaneously wondering how he had begun feeling this way. "And I think the lake and the moonlight will help you make your mind up regarding it."

He searched her face as she weighed her options. They both knew that rejecting the king's invitation would be considered unethical for a lowly moon elf, regardless if she'd single-handedly led her brethren to battle against humans and orcs alike. Eventually, Miya muttered a soft "Yes." Despite himself, Estes felt his lips stretch into a rare smile.

The Temple of the Moon opened out into a wide clearing of trimmed grass, a stone path inlaid which led towards the Moonlake. The pair followed it, walking side by side, bathed by moonlight. Nocturnal flowers of deep ceruleans and indigos bloomed by the path's edges, providing faint whiffs of sweet scent to the night.

"It is surprisingly quiet tonight," the king broke the silence, gesturing rather awkwardly towards the path ahead, towards the bit of the lake visible from where they where.

"I think the others have developed some kind of fear of the darkness," Miya responded in a low voice. "They don't want to be ambushed by evil creatures, even under the protection of the Moon." It was evident how painful it was for her to witness her fellow elves succumb to such a fear, and it reminded Estes greatly of how young she was, how early in life she had been exposed to danger.

The silence returned, but it was not heavy at all. It was light and comfortable, like the sensation of the rays of moonlight smoothly enveloping them, and Estes let himself relax, bask in the moment at hand. He would fret about his proposition to Miya when they came at the water's edge.

Hopefully, he would have garnered enough courage by then.

The lake's waters were as serene as the night itself, as if the entire Emerald Woodland had communed beforehand in giving the Moon Elf King and his Moonlight Archer a peaceful night. They would surely need it, if ever Miya accepted the offer, as they would plunge themselves into greater danger.

They stopped at where the stone path stopped; the lake lapped gently at its banks.

Estes took a deep breath. "Moonlight Archer, I may have not been fully honest with you," he began.

Apparently surprised, Miya whirled around to face him. This he could not do, because for all of his self-imposed courage, Estes thought that he wouldn't be able to ask her the question if he gazed into her eyes.

"Fully honest regarding what, Your Majesty?" He could hear the alarm in her voice, maybe she was thinking that he was planning on ditching the elves' again and hibernate—

"About the matters I was thinking about." He cleared his throat, focused his gaze on the tip of a rock jutting out of the lake's surface. A tiny imperfection in rather placid waters. "As you see, these are trying times. What we are currently experiencing is not permanent, for as long as there is evil lurking out in the world, the wars will not end. Wars will tear apart all known civilization, regardless of race and roots. Wars which will eventually find us again, here in the Emerald Woodland, and maybe by that time, we are not any more prepared for it, as we had been lulled into a sense of security by this peace.

"I mean, Moonlight Archer, is that peace is never permanent. If I throw a pebble now into the lake, it will surely disrupt the perfect façade, and cause chaos, no matter how tiny it is." He raised his head, hair falling in a white waterfall behind him. The Moon seemed to shine a little bit brighter, now that the Moon Elf King gazed up at it. "The Emerald Woodland is not the same as what it was when I went into slumber. Even if I were to do my best and try bringing it back to its former peaceful state, it would prove to be difficult. Times have changed, so did the evil in the world out there, and I have realized that I am not able to take on both tasks on my own."

He did not add the always lingering insecurity that, despite having the Code of Moonlight in his hands, Estes still felt helplessly weak. It was a wound which festered over time, and instead of letting it heal, he found himself poking it over and over until it bled again.

"I am planning to go find the root of this evil, and squash it," he continued, when Miya still hasn't said anything in reply. "The Queen of Apocalypse plays a huge part in all this mess, yes? I will go face her."

"But that's dangerous!" she exclaimed suddenly. "I mean, Your Majesty, I don't doubt your powers, but you'll have to face her legions of cohorts before finally facing her in person. Without an army to march behind your back…"

Slowly, Estes turned to face her. Her face was an open book, worry and fear etched on it, her usual sharp fierceness having dissipated for once. He knew the source of it; while she worried about his safety, she worried more about the welfare of the Woodland. Without its king, it would inch towards the brink of hopelessness once more. And Estes' quest sounded like he had a death wish.

"This is why I'm asking you. I need someone who is brave enough, yet still cares so much for my kingdom."

Her reaction was unexpected. Instead of looking hesitant, she was… blushing.

 _What in the world?_

"Miya." She started at hearing her name, gaze slowly travelling up to meet his. "If fate allows it, will you go with me? To fight the evil?"

"Oh." Miya blinked a few times. "You want me to fight with you? But, Your Majesty, just the two of us isn't enough. Even with my arrows and your power, we still are at risk of failing."

So she was considering it. This gave Estes a rush of motivation. "We will find others along the way, Miya. I don't think that I am the only one who wants to end all of this violence once and for all. And we will not leave yet. We will wait until things settle down, and the rest of the kingdom is on its feet again."

"That's actually a good plan," she mumbled, a little unsure. She seemed to think about it for a second, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ah, we'll do it. Train others who'd want to go with us. There are other brave souls in the kingdom, Your Majesty. They fought with me back then."

He nodded minutely. "Yes, of course. We will accept all help we can get."

To his surprise, Miya giggled. "Forgive me for assuming this, but, I honestly thought for a moment that you're about to ask me to marry you." As straight-forward as the arrows she let fly.

Estes found himself blushing for the second time this night. Now that she'd mentioned it, he couldn't help but wonder about it. Marrying Miya, or even just pursuing her, after this chaos has been dealt with? It was a heartwarming thought, he admitted to himself. A bright possibility in the future he could look forward to.

He let out a soft chuckle. "It will depend on where our next decisions will lead us," he said gently, meeting her gaze again despite the still apparent tinge in his cheeks. "But, if ever… in a future where I will ask you to become my queen, will you accept?"

Miya smirked at him. "It'll be my pleasure to consider it, Your Majesty."

The Moon Elf King has many regrets in his long life, and, maybe, not asking for the Moonlight Archer's hand outright was one of them.


End file.
